


Jitterbuzz

by A_Diamond



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bikini Barista Cas, Canon - Ambiguous Season, DeanCas Smol Things 2019, Fallen Angel Castiel (Supernatural), M/M, booty shorts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-10
Updated: 2019-10-10
Packaged: 2020-11-28 19:01:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20971478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Diamond/pseuds/A_Diamond
Summary: Dean visits Cas at his new coffee stand job and has strong feelings about the uniform—or lack thereof.





	Jitterbuzz

**Author's Note:**

> I’m not sure if I’m sorry or not, but I am absolutely open to artistic interpretations of Cas’s uniform.
> 
> All the thanks to the smol things crew for encouraging this absurdity, and extra thanks to superhony for the last-minute beta read!

Dean gaped speechlessly for long enough that Cas admonished, “You have to order something, Dean. There are other cars in line.”

“Yeah, okay, so make me a coffee. Cas, what the hell?”

Over the years, Cas’s baleful glare had lost a lot of its power over Dean. Never had it been less effective than peering out from beneath the furry pompoms of the fuzzy black antennae on Cas’s headband. “What kind of coffee?”

“Whatever, dude. I really don’t care about the coffee. Seriously, what are you wearing?”

Rolling his eyes, Cas started doing something on one of the machines that would presumably result in whatever monstrous excuse for coffee he’d decided to make for Dean. “It’s the uniform.”

“Cas, that ain’t a uniform. It’s a… It’s…”

Dean made the mistake of looking too carefully while trying to come up with an accurate description. His shock had glazed over what he was seeing the first time, and once he’d gotten over that he’d made a definite, desperate effort to focus on Cas’s face instead of everything else he had going on. Looking again let him take in all the details of the so-called uniform, and that was more overwhelming than he was prepared for.

Bright yellow and black stripes assaulted his eyes. Four yellow stripes. Three black stripes. They took up far too much attention for how few and small they were—but then, that was exactly the problem with them. There were too few of them. They were too small. If they’d been more and larger, Dean wouldn’t have been able to see the bottom swell of Cas’s ass peeking out from underneath where the indecently short shorts cut off. He wouldn’t have been able to see the dark hair from Cas’s navel starting to spread into a denser patch of pubic hair before disappearing under the extreme low-rise of the waistband’s yellow stripe. 

Because the stripes were only as many and as large as they were, and because Cas had to both turn around to get something out of a low cupboard and stretch up to reach something on a shelf directly above the window, Dean was treated to a very thorough view of all of the above.

He didn’t generally consider himself a creepy dude, and particularly went out of his way to keep from creeping on his formerly angelic best friend, but no amount of good intentions could grant him the power to look away. Cas didn’t notice, focusing on the coffee machine with as much intensity as he’d ever given any apocalyptic crisis. That didn’t help Dean’s guilt, but it at least allowed him to marshal his thoughts enough to throw out a half-decent insult appropriate for the occasion.

“It’s what a drunk sorority girl puts together halfway through a Halloween party when her friends tell her that her slutty nun costume isn’t slutty enough.”

Cas didn’t react immediately, still giving his full attention to the current stage in beverage crafting. Once that was done, whatever it was, he fixed Dean with another grave look. Since he was still wearing the bee headband, it remained less than entirely intimidating. “Of course it’s a uniform. Everyone who works here wears it. You were the one who suggested I get a job, Dean. I don’t know why you’re being so difficult about it now that I have.”

Before Dean could try to defend himself or argue his case, someone behind him honked and Cas held out a covered to-go cup. It had a cartoonish drawing of a winking bee on the front. “You don’t need to pay,” he said. “I get two free drinks per shift. But you have to go, people are getting impatient.”

Their hands brushed as Dean took the cup, and Cas’s scowl softened. “The high volume of customers usually lessens after ten-fifteen. If you’re on your way back from town at that time, I could give you my other free beverage.”

Dean had been ready to leave as requested, shifting his grip on the steering wheel so he could drive one-handed without spilling Cas’s hard work, but he had an unstoppable need to correct that misunderstanding, for reasons he refused to examine. “I wasn’t planning to head into town. You were just so excited about your job, I…” Dean shrugged and looked out at the road, not wanting to be faced with tiny bee-striped booty shorts as he admitted, “I figured I should drop by and see you at work. You know. Anyway, I’ll get out of your hair. Thanks for the coffee and sorry for being weird about the—yeah. You, uh. It looks good.”

He hadn’t meant to say that. He hadn’t even meant to think it, not that he’d been successful in that, either. Fortunately, he was already poised to peel out of the parking lot without looking back at Cas.

Less fortunately, he spilled half the coffee on himself in his haste.

The first sip he had of it, back at the bunker and changed into clean pants, was delicious: smooth coffee mellowed by a slight, honeyed sweetness.

When Cas barged into his room, well before the end of his shift and still dressed in the skimpiest bee costume imaginable, and dragged Dean into a kiss, they spilled the rest of it all over the floor.


End file.
